


Love Me Like You Do

by lily_winterwood



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blindfolds, Bottom Thorin, Cunnilingus, F/F, Finger Sucking, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, POV Second Person, Rule 63, Top Bilbo, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:05:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4123465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lily_winterwood/pseuds/lily_winterwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“None of that Mistress stuff for tonight, Thora,” she murmurs, the usage of your name sending shivers down your spine. “You can drop the ma’am, too. I want to take care of you tonight, not dominate you.” She pauses. “Well, not in the way we usually play.”</p><p>Alternate Title: Why Oh Why Didn't I Rule 63 Shades of Red and Gold</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Me Like You Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skylocked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylocked/gifts).



> Shameless second person POV fem!sub!Thorin PWP. Written because Skylocked is an enabler in the art of fem!Bilbo appreciation. 
> 
> Warnings for light D/s, bondage, blindfolding, not to mention potential dysphoria due to the second person POV. Read at your own discretion!

There are precious few things you’d expected when you’d signed this contract. Well, granted, you had expected BDSM, you had expected that your limits and safewords would be honoured, and you had expected to be the submissive.

But you certainly hadn’t expected, when Bilba had instructed for you to be waiting in her playroom dressed in the outfit she had laid out for you (a black lace babydoll and matching panties), that she herself would be showing up in a white lace robe, the material flimsy enough that you can see delectable creamy skin and pink satin beneath. 

“How are you feeling, darling?” she asks, in that sweet honey voice of hers, and you feel warmth coursing through you as you let your gaze travel along the curves of her body, taking in the newness of this outfit. You’d never seen her in here wearing something other than her Mistress’s corset before. 

“That’s not what you usually wear, ma’am,” you say, because your brain is so fixated on this novelty, and what new delights it might offer, that you can’t think of anything else.

“I thought I’d change things up a little,” she replies with a shrug, tugging at the collar of her lace robe, baring her faintly freckled collar to your gaze. You long to kiss it, to give it the worship it is due, but you remember your training, and you remain kneeling before her with your head bowed, looking up at her through your lashes.

Bilba takes you by the chin, tilting your head up to face her. “Do you like it?” she asks.

“Very, ma’am,” you murmur, keeping eye contact. She smiles, presses a kiss to your lips. You taste peppermint on her lips, and you sigh a little as she releases your chin.

You can feel her gaze upon your body, taking in your own curves, the slight pudge around your waist from her excellent cooking, the contrast of the black lingerie against your own skin. You feel naked underneath her stare, naked and owned and desired. The faintest brush of her fingers along your shoulders raises goosebumps along your arms. 

“I thought tonight, I would just take care of you, my dear,” she says quietly. “You look so tired.”

You try not to think of the hassle at work, the endless reports and meetings. “Being with you is its own reward, Mistress,” you murmur.

“None of that Mistress stuff for tonight, Thora,” she murmurs, the usage of your name sending shivers down your spine. “You can drop the ma’am, too. I want to take care of you tonight, not dominate you.” She pauses. “Well, not in the way we usually play.”

You look up at Bilba, and she smiles at you, traces the curve of your lips with her thumb. You open your mouth for her fingers, sucking gently, and she hums in pleasure, tilting her head to the side, honey-coloured curls lightly kissing her creamy neck, and you shiver with want at the sight, at the delightful noises she’s making. 

She pulls away after a moment, and you hum in disappointment, but she smirks at you, beckoning you to follow her. Slowly, you rise to your feet, following her across the plush red carpet of the playroom to the bed. You remember several wonderful scenes in the past where you’ve been tied up and helpless to your Mistress’s desire, where you’ve experienced pain and pleasure, ecstasy and love. You’ve flown here, on this bed, your brain lost in a haze of sensation before slowly being brought back to earth in the warmth of a blanket and the sweetness of Bilba’s voice at your ear.

Bilba reaches the foot of the bed, and you pause a couple inches from her, still hesitant to touch, but she smiles in invitation, and takes one of your hands and places it on the swell of her breast.

You don’t often have the privilege of touching your Mistress in this playroom. Outside, she is soft and cuddly, and you’ve spent many a night cocooned in the safety of her arms, your fingers tracing along her smooth skin and entangling themselves in her silky curls. You’ve had sex with her outside of the playroom, too, watching the way her hair falls in her face as she gasps out her pleasure against the kitchen table. 

But touching her like this inside the playroom feels like the first time, feels like you are discovering Bilba again. You’re pretty sure it shows in your expression as you let your hand gently explore her covered breast, because she smiles at you encouragingly, and then loosens the ties of her lace robe. You can’t help but gasp when the material falls from her freckled shoulders and slide down her body to pool at her feet, and you feel your mouth go dry at the sight of what she’s wearing beneath. Bilba Baggins is one of those women who would look fantastic in a paper sack, as far as you’re concerned, but a blush pink satin bra and panty set with little black lace detailing – not to mention the cute little black bows – is quite surely designed to drive you mad with want. 

“Well, now we’ve got about the same amount of clothing,” she reasons, reaching out to draw you closer to her, and of course you let yourself get reeled in closer to this goddess, pressed flush against her lush curves, breathing in her intoxicating perfume.

When your lips touch hers again, her fingers are curled in your hair, and you let your own hands wander, trailing through the soft hairs of her back until you’re teasing at the waistband of her knickers, still a little too hesitant to move farther down. But she makes a little needy noise into the kiss, and, emboldened, your hand dives down to squeeze gently at her ass.

Bilba giggles a little against your lips when you break apart. Warmth pools in your belly at that, at her darkened gaze, and before you know it she is pressing you down onto the bed, her lips hungrily claiming yours for a third time, the softness of her skin setting your own body ablaze. Your mouth opens beneath hers; her tongue slips in without further preamble, and, oh, isn’t she greedy, plundering your mouth with her wicked little tongue before rewarding you with a playful nip to your own lips.

“Bilba,” you whine, as she straddles your hips, but she puts a finger to your mouth, smirking her Mistress’s smirk as she taps your nose in a small chastisement.

“Let me take care of you,” she reminds you, trailing a hand under the flyaway of your babydoll, and you shiver at the touch of her warm hands upon your belly. “My beautiful, wonderful, hard-working Thora. You must be buried under all those reports at the office, hm?”

“You wouldn’t believe –” you begin, but Bilba laughs and shushes you again, her hair falling in her face in soft waves, and the sight sends another jolt of warmth to your belly. You wonder if she knows how wet you are for her, with her own heat pressed so close to yours. 

“Let’s put it out of our minds, love,” she says, grinding down a little, and you let out a dirty moan at that, hands clenching at the soft bedspread. “Let’s escape together, far, far away from all those little worries, even just for a little while, hm?”

You swallow, raising your head a little to see her again. Bilba laughs, and leans in to press another kiss to your lips, soft but full of promise. You lose yourself a little the moment her lips press against your own neck, slowly but inexorably moving downwards, along your collar, to the lace of your own babydoll. Smirking, she undoes the front lacing of the babydoll, baring your breasts to her gentle kisses.

The moment Bilba’s lips close around your nipple, all thoughts of things that are not Bilba fall right out of your head. The world narrows to her hot, wet mouth against your breasts, the pad of her thumb against your tender nipples. You arch into her touch, demanding more, and she gives it, all soft peppered kisses and long languid licks around your areolae, her hands cupping your breasts as if to hold you in place for her attentions. 

You moan in disappointment when she and her wicked mouth move away. Bilba gestures for you to move back along the bed, against the pillows, and you comply, eyes following her as she reaches into the nightstand and returns with a long black blindfold. Immediately you lean forward a little, and the black cloth is tied over your eyes, obscuring Bilba from sight. 

Being blindfolded is nothing new; you’ve experienced it in several romps in the playroom before. But this time it’s not the Mistress depriving you of sight; it’s Bilba opening you up to feel her more keenly against you. Every lingering trace of her fingers against your skin is a brand; every kiss is intoxicating to the touch. Even the brief brush of her hands against your face as she tucks away some of your hair behind one ear makes you all the more aware of her presence, makes you feel the heat of her body against you as she moves down to press kisses to your belly once more.

“Have I mentioned how much I love your soft tum, love?” she whispers against your skin, and your hands grasp the bedspread in reply as the heat of her breath tickles at your navel. “I could nuzzle it for hours. Would you like that?”

“Please,” you murmur. Bilba herself is deliciously plump, too, but it’s the way she unreservedly loves your own body that makes you feel more desired than you have ever felt before. You’re rewarded with a giggle into the soft flesh just before the waistband of your panties, and you gasp at just how close her mouth is to where you need her the most. 

Bilba peppers a trail of kisses down to the edge of the lace of your panties. You keen into her touch, hips jerking upwards of their own volition, but she presses you down, fingers hooking into the waistband. 

“Aren’t you excited,” she murmurs, lips close to the lace, and your head presses back hard against the pillows at the promising whisper of her breath against your wetness.

You raise your hips a little, to let her peel away your soaked panties off your hips, down your legs. “Spread your legs, love,” Bilba whispers, and you comply in an instant, trembling slightly as you feel the heat of her breath approaching your core. She presses lingering kisses to your inner thighs, teasingly skirting around the apex of your thighs until finally, she rewards you with a kiss to the folds of your pussy, and you lose all grasp of the English language beyond the word ‘more’. 

With one hand, Bilba spreads your pussy open, her tongue circling your clit before licking a stripe down your slit and teasing at your opening. You’re half-convinced there is magic in her tongue; magic that turns you into little more than a writhing mess beneath her. You buck wildly towards her, craving more, and her fingernails dig crescents into your skin to hold you where she wants you. But she still give you more, yes, more, her tongue thrusting into you as greedily as before. 

The fog of pleasure in your mind thickens when her tongue moves back up to your clit, her lips slick with your juices as she sucks gently at the sensitive flesh. You mewl at that, hips grinding down against her mouth, craving more friction as you edge closer and closer towards orgasm.

You feel the heat of Bilba’s mouth upon yours a moment later, and you taste yourself in her lips as her hands move to untie your blindfold. Your own hand moves downwards in search of release, but Bilba catches your wrists in her hands as the blindfold falls from your face. For a moment, you stare into her eyes, drowning in her darkened gaze, and then she is tying your wrists with the silken cloth of the blindfold, securing you to one of the bars on the headboard of the bed.

“Try not to pull too much, or you’ll cut off your circulation,” she warns, and you nod, because words aren’t coming to you in the haze that is your brain at the moment. Bilba smirks in satisfaction, and kisses you again, one of her hands cupping your face as she straddles your hips again. And then she moves down, settling between your legs again, and you cry aloud as one of her fingers slips into you.

Your first instinct is to close your eyes, but Bilba seems to have other plans. “Keep your eyes on me, dear,” she says, and you comply, throat going dry as you watch her other hand moving to cup the swell of her satin-clad breasts. When she trails her hand down her belly you give a small whine, and when that hand slips into her own panties and her head falls back a little, you clench around the finger that’s inside you, wanting to feel her touch you the same way she’s touching herself.

“Oh god,” you manage with some effort to string together the words, watching Bilba’s mouth open in a soft ‘oh’ as she looks at you through hooded eyes. She slips another finger into you, and you barely feel the stretch through the wetness – but then her fingers crook a little, pressing against your sweet spot, and you cry her name loud as stars appear before your eyes. 

Bilba gives a small cry, her head falling back as she comes undone before you, and you know you’re not close behind; you’re just teetering along the edge, with every rub of her fingers within you sending you ever closer to climax. “Come for me,” she whispers, her hair falling in her face as she pulls her other hand out from her panties, licking her juices from her fingers.

You come at the sight of that, at the brush of her thumb against your clit, her name the only thing you know how to say as your walls shudder against her fingers. She pulls out of you slowly, her smirk softening into a smile as she licks you from her fingers with a hum of pleasure.

“How was it, Thora dear?” she asks quietly as she unties you, and you rub your wrists a little as you sit up to face her, shrugging your babydoll off your shoulders properly before you cup her face.

“Wonderful,” you reply, peppering her face with kisses, nuzzling into her skin. Bilba giggles when you press kisses to the tops of her satin-clad breasts, and gasps when you undo the clasps around the back. You’re still not quite sure where most of your vocabulary has gone in the fog of pleasure that is your mind, but you do have some semblance of an idea brewing in there.

You press Bilba down onto the bed now, your forehead leaning against hers, and you say:

“It’s not fair that I didn’t get to taste you, though, so I think I might just return the favour.”

The delighted gasp she gives you is all the encouragement you need. 


End file.
